


Love Songs

by TerribleQuestionMark



Series: What it means to Love [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aromantic, Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, George cries, GeorgeNotFound-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Multi, Not a lot of fluff but I tried, People break up with George, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sad GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sad with a Happy Ending, no beta we die like men, nothing explicit but iykyk, so much crying, there's a lot of crying actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27952565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleQuestionMark/pseuds/TerribleQuestionMark
Summary: Love (n)an intense feeling of deep affectionEveryone always talks about the pains of unrequired love without ever considering the other side.George is beautiful and he knows it. His problems with love songs have nothing to do with not being able to get laid, but more with what comes attached. Feelings._________No, you're not a terrible person George.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) & Original Female Character(s), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)/Original Character(s), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)/Original Male Character(s), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: What it means to Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048021
Comments: 25
Kudos: 182
Collections: you've read this fucker :]





	Love Songs

**Author's Note:**

> While there are no explicit descriptions of sex in this work, there are mentions of it and I believe in sex education. That being said this is marked teen and up for language and mentions of sexual acts. 
> 
> Mentioned is:  
> edging  
> blowjobs  
> repeated words
> 
> They're literally just mentioned but I know some people become uncomfortable with those topic. 
> 
> ALSO
> 
> This is purely a work of fiction. I like to specifically write Queer platonic relationships because we need representation. :D
> 
> WAIT. Even though this story in specific is fiction, aromaticism is not. 
> 
> Don't send this to the ccs, if they find it on their own, well Hello There. Hope this made you laugh a little, it's mostly full of sadness and pain. Hope I made you guys cry.
> 
> MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM criticism? Love that. Gimme gimme 
> 
> Listen to Hunnybee by Unknown Mortal Orchesta while you read this :P

The sun shone through George’s blinds like a signal from god, gently caressing his face as he laid there drinking in the cool morning air. A saving grace from the demonic slumber he experienced the night before. His eyes remained closed, hand on chest— feeling his rapid heartbeat, trying to breathe and calm down from a terrible night's rest. 

He fell asleep to love songs. Again. Dried tears stained his cheeks, not because he dreamed of a forgotten unattainable love, no. He was reminded once again of love. The dreaded four letter word brought nothing but pain to him. 

He took in a long inhale, resurfacing memories doing nothing to slow the thumping in his head. His mind overflowing with flashes of painful smiles and tearful eyes of the people he left behind. 

George remembered the words of people professing their love. People claiming a chasing fire, explosions of emotions, soft sighs of pleasure and screams of ecstasy in his memories. George knew nothing close to that. Well, the closest thing that he knew was an extended orgasm after a couple of hours of edging. _God, what was he thinking when he said yes to that_.

No, the four letter word was something George wasn’t sure he knew. He especially hated when others felt sorry for him, for not experiencing ‘love’.

He was in relationships before, of course. He had one real girlfriend and a couple of boyfriends, and of course a couple of flings here and there. Yet, he didn’t think he could call what he felt for them love. He wouldn’t have enjoyed their company as much as he did if he hadn’t. 

He hated the way his exes looked when they broke up with him. Sad and angry— most of them had tears streaming down their faces. A brunette girl had slapped him, a raven haired boy flipped him off and spilled coffee on his head, and a ginger boy had cried the hardest in a public mall, attracting the attention of strangers.

The first break up was long awaited, only he was blind to the signs.

“I love you, I love you so much that it hurts.” The brunette girl’s cheeks were bright red, contrasting the golden hue of Christmas lights on the street of her house. “I love you so much George. I—” she let out a soft sob, hiding her face with her palms, “I just can’t deal with the thought that you don’t love me as much as I love you.”

George had kept a straight face, although he was slightly shocked that she was breaking up with him so close to the holiday season. Seriously, she decided that now was a good time. He had already planned what their Christmas was going to look like and bought her a gift. 

He scoffed. “You think I would just fuck whomever? Seriously, after these months of knowing each other,” he pointed at her, emphasizing, “ _You_ think _I_ -” he pointed at himself, “-would fuck whatever had legs in front of me. With no feelings involved.”

She took out a tissue and wiped her eyes, “George. Did I say that? I didn’t even _mention_ sex. You’re just proving what I said.”

“This doesn’t prove shit. How does any of what I said prove that I don’t love you? You really think I don’t love you?”

They stood under the weight of the question, the tension between them making the cold winter night freezing. The holiday cheer was nowhere to be found. “Yes.” she said.

His lips opened slightly in confusion, “What— why? If it wasn’t the sex, what did I do wrong?”

She stared at him, an incredulous look in her eyes that screamed _the audacity of this man_ , but George still did not understand.

“George.” Her voice was strong, her tears drying up and an angry expression replacing them. “You came to me only for sex. Our dates where bland, the aftercare was trash, in fact the sex was the only reason I stayed for so long.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed, he thought his cuddles were warm and his dates cute and affectionate. _Did he not show how much he cared in all their time together?_ His love wasn't enough? Sure, he had never been very verbal but George was proud in the ways he showed affection. Apparently she disagreed with him because she interrupted his thoughts with a small laugh.

“You know, George. I used to think that you were just closed off. That you would open up if I opened up, that you just needed a chance to experience the warmth of a person, but I was wrong. You don’t love me.”

“Of course I love you.” _Did he? Of course he did. What else would he call the amount of affection he held for her?_

She shook her head. “No, George. You don’t text me sweet messages anymore. You’re always dry and passive about everything.”

“That’s not true! I— I messaged you today.”

“That was to ask about where we were meeting. That’s not the same.”

“I still messaged you.”

She pinched her nose. “I’m breaking up with you George. I can’t deal with you bullshit anymore.”

“S—”

“Don’t you dare say my name.” She balled up the tissue and threw it at him.

George’s face went red, his breathing became labored and he didn’t know what he was feeling. _Was this heartbreak?_ He balled his fists in rage and yelled, “You’re right. I never loved you. In fact, I still don’t love you. Fuck, everything about you wasn’t worth it. I should be the one breaking up with you. You—”

She took a step forward, raised her palm and slapped him across his face. 

George touched his face, wincing at the memory. She had told him to delete her number and never talk to her again. He looked at the sunlight on his chest using a hand to try to grab it, it’s streams reminding him of nice summer weather and the smell of coffee beans. _Warm_.

The second breakup was worse, if it even counted as a breakup. He had gone on a date with an attractive guy, they were just getting to know each other and George thought he was hot. They hadn’t done anything beyond make out and George was hoping that after the date he would get lucky.

They had ordered a cup of tea and an iced coffee at a cute cafe downtown London, sitting by a window overlooking a busy street. 

“So, what are your thoughts on marriage?”

George choked on his tea, coughing at the unexpected question. He cleared his throat. “Uhh, I haven’t really thought about marriage before.”

“Oh.” The raven man took a sip from his coffee, “You said you had relationships in the past. I assumed you talked about marriage with them.”

George hummed, looking out the window to avoid the rude question. The weather was nice in London for once, soft sunlight flowed through the windows. _Maybe that’s why he remembered this incident_. 

“I’ve had relationships before, yeah.” George said, fumbling with his cup as he turned away from the passing birds to his tea. “They just weren’t serious enough for marriage talks.”

The man furrowed his brows, “I thought you said your longest relationship was a year and a half.”

George frowned. “Yeah. It was.” He looked up, maintaining eye contact with the raven haired man.

The man tried to relax his eyes brows, going to the extent of rubbing his temple with his left hand, keeping his iced coffee secure with his right. “I don’t understand. I thought you said you loved them.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you didn’t talk about marriage?”

“No. Is that hard to believe?”

“It’s just—” George narrowed his eyes and tried to steady his increasing annoyance at the man’s talking. “—with my last partners, we had the marriage talk after the first few times we slept together.”

George took another sip of his tea, trying to regulate his breathing as he smelled the fragrant earl grey. “Good for you. So why are we both here, unmarried.”

The raven man’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned back in shock at George’s remark. George’s response wasn’t nearly as mean as the man’s questions yet _he_ was offended. 

“You—”The man said. 

George brushed his hair away from his forehead with his fingers. 

“-You’re telling me that you—” He gestured rudely, “never planned on marrying someone you love.”

George leaned on his palm, angling his head towards what he knew was his good angle. “Well. I wouldn’t say _that_.”

The man opened and closed his mouth in shock, face becoming increasingly more pink as George waited with a slight pout. “You’re terrible.”

George’s pout turned into a frown. “Excuse me?” he said incredulously. 

“I said you’re terrible.”

“What?”

“You lead people on.”

“I never—”

“You’re doing it right now.”

George’s face twisted in confusion. “Stop cutting me off. What are you talking about?”

“This.” The raven haired man twirled a finger, pointing at the cute café they sat in. “You’re leading me on.”

“How is this leading someone on?”

“What about this isn’t leading someone on? You take me to a cute café, make out with me on the door steps of an apartment, text me ‘good morning’ and ‘how are you’, make it seem like you care but you don’t think there will be a future beyond a few fucks.” The raven haired man gripped his iced coffee, veins popping out with the amount of strength he exerted.

“When did I say that?”

“You didn’t need to.”

“Oh, so now you’re jumping to conclusions after a couple of dates. You don’t even know me that well.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, like he was talking to himself and George was the one eavesdropping. “Do you think you can see yourself with me George?”

“What?” 

“Do you think you will love me,” George was beginning to hate that word, “enough to stay with me. Through thick or thin. Do you think you could ever— no matter how many years go by and our relationship develops more, do you think you could marry me? Not even me, do you think you can marry someone? Anyone.”

George sat there, straight back and stoic face. He was unreadable and he preferred it that way. Yet, his silence was apparently all the raven haired man needed to stand up and pour his iced coffee on top of his head.

“Fuck you George.” He flipped George off as he walked out.

In bed, George rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, remembering the coldness of the coffee that slid down his back. The barista let him use one of their towels to dry his hair after George gave him a pitiful look. His smile, a small thanks, and a little laugh landed him a blowjob in the backroom. That day was a rollercoaster and George didn’t like rollercoasters. He liked blowjobs. Yes, he preferred that distraction over the heartache the raven haired man caused him.

George sat up on his bed and looked at the clock. It was noon, a couple of hours before he needed to get ready to start his day. Checking his phone to no new important messages, he got up and got ready for a shower. 

Opening his closet, he took out a blue hoodie with a simple logo on it. He grimaced at the memory that it brought up. The third breakup that brought his hatred of the word “love.”

The Westfield London mall was huge, it’s geometric ceiling brought warm sunlight on sunny days and cool lighting on common cloudy days for its customers. George had brought his latest boyfriend on a date, looking to buy a new sweater for the incoming fall weather.

“George, you should buy this! You look stunning in navy blue!” His ginger boyfriend pressed the clothing item on his torso.

George smiled, grabbing the sweatshirt from the other man’s hands. “Should I?”

The ginger man blushed, softly saying, “Yes. I love you.”

George smiled wider and turned to walk towards the changing rooms. Once inside he dropped his smile and let out a sigh. 

The man in the mirror had weary eyes and slightly droopy shoulders. George had been dwelling over his relationship the past few nights. It wasn’t like anything was wrong with his boyfriend, no he was amazing.

He was cute and smiley, he would shower George with verbal affirmations of affection. Plus, he would let George experiment things in the bedroom and what kind of guy was George to deny a willing partner. Yet, that wasn’t the problem.

George shuffled in the changing room as a feeling of dread overwhelmed him. His feelings towards his boyfriend were the same towards the people he had past relationships with. He felt immense affection and care towards them, yet they always left him. _Was he not enough?_

He shook his head as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head and practiced his smile in the mirror. Walking out to show his boyfriend was easy. Laughing at his flustered expression was easy. Dragging him into the changing room was easy. What wasn’t easy was kissing him.

George paused as his breath fanned over his boyfriend’s lips. The ginger man’s eyes were closed as he waited for George to kiss him. George analyzed the other man’s face, drinking in his peaceful expression. Cute freckles spotted his skin, a cute button nose above his thin lips. He wondered how he got lucky enough to know such a kind person.

He couldn’t do this to him. 

George kissed his forehead and gently pushed him out of the room.

“What? I thought you were going to kiss me.” George’s eyes softened at the other's confused expression.

“I will, I just don’t want anyone to hear us.” George winked, “I want you all to myself.”

The ginger man’s face flushed a deep red. George laughed as he got out of the hoodie, changing quickly.

They walked together towards the counter and George averted his gaze, waiting for the cashier lady to finish her phone call. They were talking loudly, the cashier lady had a look of concern on her face and George felt somewhat bad for eavesdropping.

“No, you’re not broken honey.” She sighed. “No, don’t you dare say you are loveless. You don’t need to feel romantic attraction to be human. Don’t you dare start crying over them calling you shallow.”

George froze, snapping his neck towards her. He felt that her words were important. So important that he felt his stare intensify. He memorized her words like a mantra. A symphony of the truest kind. 

“ No, you don’t need love to have sex. No honey— honey listen.” She paused for a little, a light sob was heard through the phone. “It’s okay to be aromantic. Love and traditional relationships aren’t an essential part to human existence.” She turned towards George and his boyfriend, “I’m sorry, can you wait for a little while longer, my friend is having a crisis and I need to help.”

George’s boyfriend began to tap his foot and fidget, grabbing George’s hand to get his attention. George broke his stare and forced a warm smile, “No problem, we can wait.”

The cashier lady smiled and walked to the back room, leaving George and his boyfriend in the store. The ginger man huffed, crossing his arms and pouting. George turned towards him, still thinking of the lady’s words. “What?”

“We’re going to be late to the movie if she takes longer than 5 minutes.”

George clenched his jaw, “You booked a movie for us? Why would you do that, we were only supposed to be shopping for sweaters.”

The ginger man’s eyes began tearing up. “I— I just wanted to spend more time with you Georgie.”

George put the sweatshirt down on the counter. “Well. We’re not watching the movie.”

“What?” The ginger man threw his hands up, “Why? We always do what you say but never what I want to do.”

“What do you mean?” George stepped towards his boyfriend. _Aromantic_. “I thought you liked it when I took control?”

The ginger man’s face flushed again for the millionth time today. “Not like this. And why are you bringing that up here?”

George smirked. “What? You don’t like people knowing?”

His boyfriend shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. I just thought you didn’t. You didn’t want to kiss me in the changing room, I thought you didn’t like PDA.”

George hummed. _Aromantic_. Turning to walk out the store and ignoring his boyfriend, his thoughts drifted back to the conversation the cashier lady was having with her friend. _Aromantic_. In front of the register, he thought time froze and that she had become a prophet. He wanted to keep hearing her words, craving the sense of freedom and belonging her sweet song brought him. _Aromantic_.

He felt a hand grab his hand and George looked at his boyfriend. He chuckled. _Boyfriend_. It implied exclusivity, some kind of deep interpersonal connection with another. Honestly, George didn’t really like that label but he didn’t know what else to call what he felt towards others.

Walking around the mall, George felt the warmth of his boyfriend’s presence. He was a beautiful soul, the ginger man on his right. The sunlight from the ceiling highlighted his features, transforming him into an angel. One that deserved everything in the world and more. That’s when it hit George. 

He gasped at the sudden realization that infiltrated his mind. _Aromantic_. They stopped in front of a bench, George’s boyfriend pulling him towards the mall exit.

“George! Why did you stop?” He turned to look at George. “Are you crying?”

George didn’t know where to begin. _I don’t love you. I never loved you. No, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful, perfect even. No, this is about me, never you. I’m sorry. I’m not leading you on I swear. I can’t help it_.

“I can’t love you.” George slipped his hand out from his boyfriend’s and slapped it on his mouth shocked that those where the words that escaped his mouth. 

“What?” The ginger man squeaked.

“No,” George tried to grab him but he avoided his hands, “What I mean—”

“What do you mean you can’t love me?” Tears began welling in his boyfriend’s eyes. He looked so pitiful, George wanted to hold him in his arms.

“I…” 

“You hate me don’t you?”

“What? No, I don’t.” _Please. Please, listen to me_.

“I should have listened!” The ginger man dropped to his knees, sobbing loudly and attracting the attention of bystanders. George blushed, embarrassed to have this happen in such a public place.

“I—”

“I should have listened when they said you were going to break my heart.” His boyfriend, if could be called that now, sobbed louder. “I should have listened when they said you would lead me on. That there was no way you could love me. That you would leave me the way you left Stephanie, Jacob, Lupe, Henry—”

“No, please listen. I—”

“How many broken hearts did you leave behind?”

“Please, no—”

“You can’t love me. You never loved me. I could tell you know. You wouldn’t tell me you love me. You only ever told her that.” _George remembered soft brown hair tangled in his hands, sweet whispers and gentle kisses_. “You probably aren’t even into me that much.”

George’s face felt hot. His mouth was dry and his words were not going to express themselves anytime soon. _Please. Please let me explain_.

“Can we not do this here?”

“No!” George tried to lift him to his legs but the ginger man only sobbed louder.

“Please.” George’s voice was soft. “Please let me explain.”

“George.” Bareilly audible, his voice was broken, begging, “don’t call me. Just— just leave me alone.”

George remembered standing there for a couple of seconds before running out of the mall. He remembered breaking down on the train ride home. Calling any of his friends to bring him comfort, not yet mentioning his sudden realization. It felt too soon. Too personal. It wasn't something he could explain without understanding first.

It took him more than a couple of hours to fully calm down. It took him many more months to come to like navy blue again. It took him even longer to appreciate freckles on beautiful skin again.

George set the sweater back down in his closet, choosing to grab a black hoodie instead. He laughed a little at the memories as he walked into the shower, bittersweet in his head but barbed in his heart. They hurt him just as much as he hurt them.

He sighed as he let the hot water hit his hair. It was never enough, the heat of water in comparison to the gentle embrace of another body. He moved his hands, frantically scrubbing, deciding that he wanted to get out of the shower as soon as possible.

Using a soft towel to dry his hair, he wiped some steam off of the mirror. Today, the man in the mirror was different from the one in his memories. His hair still stuck to the front of his forehead, his eyes didn’t have bags under them, his skin was clear and soft and most importantly he didn’t have anyone who expected love from him.

His phone vibrated.

_:) Breakfast is ready._

George felt a small smile stretch across his lips. He dressed quickly and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. 

The sunlight was brighter with the curtains pulled to the sides, painting the kitchen in a rich honey color. The smell of pancakes filled the air, fully driving the homey vibe into George’s mind.

“There he is.” Sapnap said, mouthful from eating a stack of pancakes on the kitchen island. 

Dream looked up from the stove, a pan in hand and a wide smile on his face. “Morning George.”

George slid onto a stool, leaning on his elbows and cupping his face in his palms. “Where’s my breakfast?”

Sapnap laughed. “Don’t give him food, Dream.”

“What? No! Feed me.”

“You’re late. You don’t get food. All of these are mine.”

“Close your mouth when you chew! And stop hogging the food.”

Dream slid a plate with pancakes in front of George, lightly chuckling at their banter. Before George could pick up his knife and fork, Sapnap grabbed the plate and plopped the pancakes on top of his syrup filled dish.

“Dream! Sapnap stole my pancakes!” George whined, turning to look at the tall blond. 

Dream sighed, setting the pan down and rubbing his temples. “Sapnap, I already told you that you could only eat four, max. You ate five and now you stole George’s pancakes.”

Sapnap drank some milk to wash down the huge chunk of pancake in his throat. Lightly coughing, “Shut up Dream. I can eat as much as I want. Why do you always have George’s dick in your mouth, simp.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sapnap. You’re the one choking. Stop stealing all of the food.” Dream said.

“Aww Sapnap,” George scooted closer to the younger man noticing how the other stiffened, “stop eating my food.” He grabbed Sapnap’s hand holding the fork and bit the slice of pancake off, tasting only maple syrup. 

Sapnap gasped. “George!”

All three of them laughed, the blond’s wheeze overpowering sound blasted through the kitchen. _Yeah_. Who needs a lover when you have two best friends who loved you regardless of your past. 

George basked in the warmth of the moment, lightly sighing. _Love_. Sitting on the kitchen stool, watching the golden threads of sunlight bounce off the faces of his closest companions, George realized that maybe this could be his love. He wouldn’t say it out loud. No, he wasn’t ready for weight that the word love had.

Too many times in his past had he been hurt by the phrase “I love you”. Too many times to ever truly be comfortable telling someone else he loved them. Sometimes he came close, so close that the words hung off his lips. Waiting to jump off the cliff of insecurities and dive into the ocean of reality and feelings. 

George wouldn’t allow it. Not again. Not now. Maybe never, but maybe sometime in the future. A future that could surpass his lifetime. A letter, a recording, a poem, not his voice— it wouldn’t be his voice. Never his voice.

“Sorry, what?” George blinked, trying to focus on Sapnap’s words.

Sapnap quirked his eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re spacing out.” Sapnap turned so he was face to face with George, “What happened?”

George avoided his gaze, eyes landing on Dream who was washing dishes. The blond also had his eyes trained on George, quickly rinsing his hands off the suds and making his way to stand next to the brunet. George sighed, closing his eyes and letting Dream take his face in his hands.

“I—” George took a deep breath, “I just. I was just thinking.”

Sapnap rubbed George’s arm soothingly, offering unspoken support in his friend’s moment of vulnerability. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

George shook his head. “No, it’s just that. It’s been so long that I thought I was kind of over it.”

Dream rubbed his thumbs against George’s cheekbones. “George.” He said his name so quietly, and so fondly that George felt the tears from last begin to resurface. Except now instead of the cold morning air on his cheeks, it was Dream’s warm palms. _Breathe, love_.

“I’m not terrible, right?” George whispered. Opening his eyes, vision blurry.

“Oh George.” Dream whispered back, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

Sapnap leaned forward, wrapping his arms around George. He squeezed, letting the smaller man sob in his arms.

“It’s just that, I— I’ve hurt so many people before. It was never my intention to cause harm to them but, I did it anyway and I feel terrible.” Dream pulled George against his chest, using one arm to wrap around Sapnap and his other hand to gently hold George’s head. 

“You’re not terrible. You’re not a terrible person George.” George could feel Dream’s words echo against his ears.

“I know. Inside I know. I know. I understand that but—” George let out a small cry, “I wish I knew back then. That I handled the breakups differently. That I knew what being aromantic was. Maybe that way I wouldn’t have felt like such a fuck up. Maybe I still wouldn’t feel like I’m broken. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like a terrible person.”

They all held each other as they let George cry it out, whispering comforting words. 

“They hurt you just as much as you hurt them, George. It’s part of what being a person is. You’re not automatically the worst type of person because you don’t experience that type of affection, attraction.” Dream squeezed tighter. “Fuck, George. We care for you and we don’t think you’re a terrible person. You don’t need romance to be human.”

Sapnap kissed George’s cheek, softly like a feather, reassuring in the quietest way. “Fuck love.”

George sniffled, letting a small laugh at the other’s remark. “Fuck love.”

 _Yeah, love_. George didn’t need love to be human. He didn’t need painful love songs, promising something that he couldn’t experience. Something that he didn’t want to experience. He didn’t need the seduction of an unattainable concept, undesired feeling and emotion. He’s fine, and he really will be as long as he has his support system. 

He didn’t know how to describe what he felt, in his past for the people he let go and in the present for Dream and Sapnap. He smiled. This could be his love.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. That happened. 
> 
> Aromantic peeps are not shallow, they're not robots, they don't only want people for sex, they're not monsters, they're completely valid for not experiencing romantic attraction.
> 
> I only wrote one type of aromanticism, where George isn't romance repulsed, but due to amanormativity he felt like he had to label the type of affection as love. Love as defined as a deep affection for something or someone but it's often connected to romance. You don't need romance to feel love and you don't need love to be human.
> 
> I would understand if some of that is considered radical, and I don't expect the vast majority of people to understand. This is just a work that came from my heart, a little aroace bean wanting some sort of representation anywhere. So I wrote it myself :D
> 
> Also if anyone wants to beta read for me please leave a comment, I'll be moderating :O
> 
> or 
> 
> follow me on twitter maybe  @terrible_pie 


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